Notebook
by Flutterling
Summary: Just a notebook. Dear Notebook, I'm so glad to finally be away from Mother and Father...
1. Prologue: The Beautiful People

Prologue: The Beautiful People.  
  
Mid-July, 1991 -- The Parkinson Estate  
  
Pansy shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She hated Mother's dreadful parties.  
  
It was all the same, all the time. Pansy sighed and ran her hand through her dark hair. She hated these parties her parents threw, they were so utterly dull.  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by the unpleasant sound of her mother's high, false laugh as one of the gentleman - A short man who was probably a Death Eater, just like her father - told a supposedly very amusing joke. Pansy sighed again, causing her mother to frown and glare at her before pasting her usual bright smile back on her face.  
  
'Excuse me,' the eleven-year-old said politely, and left the knot of people.  
  
'Your daughter's turning into quite a looker, Ms Parkinson,' the man said, in one of those false whispers that he must have known Pansy could hear. She made a faint noise of disgust and escaped to the garden outside.  
  
She sat down on the back steps and rested her chin in her hands. Crickets sang, and the moon hung in the sky, looking rather like one of the large cookies the house-elves always made for her. She glared up at it. Then she glared at the water fountain bubbling beside her. Then she just glared at the world in general.  
  
She really hated this life.  
  
Well, to be fair - She didn't hate all of it. The pretty clothes and toys were so nice, and the respect her parents - Mother's voice floated out the window, 'Would you like another glass of wine, Mrs Goyle?' - had in their social circle (comprised mostly of Death Eaters) was good, but... She hated the rest of it.  
  
She couldn't stand the boring parties and luncheons, despised the pleasantries and false friendships -- 'Narcissa, darling, your hair looks so unusual like that!' She could hear her mother coo from inside -- It all seemed so very pointless to Pansy.  
  
Pansy punched the ground softly in frustration -- Even though Mother said that hitting things was unladylike -- and made what she hoped was a suitably threatening and angry sound. She was determined that she was not going to live the rest of her life like this.  
  
...  
  
Draco Malfoy stood uncomfortably in the corner of the room, shuffling his feet and trying to block out the noise of the conversations going on in front of him.  
  
'... And so the bartender says, why the long face?' Gregory Goyle Senior took a long drink from his wine glass and laughed loudly at his own joke, sounding, to Draco, rather like a sick Hippogriff. The other adults laughed politely, and began contributing their own bloody boring jokes to the conversation. Draco winced and hung his head in embarrassment as his father told a particularly bawdy one.  
  
Draco managed to look up long enough to see a girl of about his age slip outside. He had noticed her briefly earlier that evening, and hadn't really paid attention to her since. But now that he thought about it, she might be somewhat entertaining for him.  
  
Trying not to be noticed by any of the adults, he sneaked across the room - stubbing his toe on a rather ugly table on the way - and hopped out the door as quietly as possible.  
  
The girl was sitting down in what seemed a very mopey position. Draco wrinkled his pointed nose. He couldn't stand girls who played Damsel in Distress. He liked girls with spirit.  
  
She wasn't, he decided, a particularly pretty girl - Her nose turned up at the end, and she had too many freckles. And there was that bloody mopey... thing... she was doing, too.  
  
Just then, the girl, apparently not aware of Draco's presence, slammed her fist down on the ground beside her and emitted a strange shrieking noise. Ha, Draco thought, maybe she wasn't as soppy as she had seemed at first.  
  
The girl must have heard him, because she turned to look at him. Embarrassed to be found staring, he started talking in a high, nervous voice.  
  
'Er - Yes, sorry to bother you, I was just, er...' Draco Malfoy, usually composed and dignified -- as a Malfoy must always be -- hastily tried to come up with an excuse. The girl raised her eyebrows and laughed quietly.  
  
Draco shuffled his feet again, wincing as he felt the sharp pain in his injured toe. Well, this was awkward.  
  
Suddenly remembering the manners his parents had been so intent upon teaching him at an early age, he held out his hand to the girl.  
  
'My name is Draco Malfoy, it's an honour to meet such a lovely lady as yourself, Miss, er...?' he trailed off.  
  
'Pansy Parkinson. And please don't start acting like them, I came outside to escape that.'  
  
'Oh, thank God!' Breathing a sigh of relief, Draco sat down beside Pansy. 'I take it, then, that you enjoy these little get-togethers as much as I do.'  
  
'They're disgusting,' snarled Pansy.  
  
'Agreed. So, Miss Parkinson... Tell me about yourself.'  
  
'There's nothing to tell. I'm starting Hogwarts this year--'  
  
'Is that so?'  
  
'Yes... I can't wait to escape my family.' Draco laughed at this; he could relate.  
  
'Anyway... Continue...'  
  
'Oh... I'm eleven, I hate my nose, and I hate the beautiful people.'  
  
'The who?' Pansy nodded towards the door, just as a burst of high, false laughter rang out.  
  
'Them. The beautiful people.. So perfect, so respected and envied and so utterly fake.'  
  
Draco nodded. He sighed as he heard his mother's voice - 'Oh, we must get together again soon, Patricia darling... I just love your parties...'  
  
Draco and Pansy looked at one another and laughed in unison. And so it began. 


	2. Chapter One: September 1st, 1991

Notebook: Chapter One  
  
September First, 1991 -- The Hogwart's Express  
  
'09/01/91  
  
Dear notebook,  
  
I'm so glad to finally be away from Mother and Father! I think I was going insane in that house. But now I'm free.  
  
Apparently Harry Potter is on the school train - He's starting Hogwart's this year, too. Draco -- Who is currently buying food off the trolley to stuff his pointy face with -- Is very eagar to make friends with this boy. I can't think why, though. It's all Harry Potter's fault that -'  
  
"What are you writing, Pansy Parkinson?" Draco Malfoy said suddenly, looking up from the pumpkin pasties in front of him. Pansy snapped her diary shut and stowed it safely in her already too-full trunk. Draco may have become her best friend during the time since they'd first met, but some things were still private.  
  
"Oh, it's nothing -- Mother bought it for me as a gift for starting at Hogwarts," Pansy said, trying to sound bored. Truthfully, she loved the little book. It was nothing special -- just a plain, dark red coloured notebook, but she thought it was quite pretty. "She should have gotten one with a lock, honestly, considering I have such nosy friends," she added with a half-smile.  
  
Draco swallowed a rather large bite of pumpkin pasty.  
  
"Why, forgive me for being such a concerned, caring friend, Miss Parkinson," he joked, but with a touch of indignation in his voice. Pansy gave a genuine smile now. She was fond of Draco when he acted like this. As conceited, spoiled and impertinent as her friend was, he had his amusing moments.  
  
"So," he said in what he obviously hopes was a careless voice, and examined his fussily-cleaned fingernails "I wonder what this Potter boy is like, don't you?" He was trying desperately to sound casual. and was failing quite miserably.  
  
"You've said that four times already since we got on the train, Draco. Why don't you just go and find out what he's like for yourself?"  
  
Draco drew himself up, looking haughty.  
  
"A Malfoy," he bgain, sounding like he was repeating a lecture he had heard many times before, "Does not make the first move. He never -- Oh, all right! You've twisted my arm. I'll go," He muttered, and slammed out of the compartment. Pansy could hear his voice as he walked down the corridor outside, calling for his friends Crabbe and Goyle, to join him. When she was satisfied that Draco was going to stay out of the compartment for a while, she opened her trunk and took out her notebook again.  
  
'-- It's all Harry Potter's fault that Mother and Father got into trouble with the Ministry of Magic years ago, after the Dark Lord fell. It took a lot of convincing before the Ministry would trust them -- And Mr and Mrs Malfoy -- again.  
  
I hope I'm in Slytherin. Draco is perfectly sure that he will be -- And I agree, he will. But I don't know if I'm ambitious enough to be in Slytherin myself. All the best people are, though, my Father said. He'll be so annoyed at me if I'm not... Imagine if I were Sorted into Hufflepuff! I'm ashamed just thinking about that. Oh please, please let me be in Slytherin.  
  
Oh -- Draco's back. And he looks annoyed. Oh, no.'  
  
Draco and his two friends, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, had just entered Pansy's compartment. Pansy, putting her notebook and quill away once again, noticed that Goyle was frowning and rubbing his hand.  
  
Draco, his cheeks faintly flushed, slumped down on a bench with no trace of his usual dignity.  
  
"Stupid Potter... Insult me?... Didn't want to be friends with him anyway," he muttered, half to himself. Pansy looked concerned.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"That git completely rejected my offer of friendship. He obviously doesn't know how much power we Malfoy's hold," Malfoy seemed genuinely surprised that someone would not want to be friends with a Malfoy. He ran his hand through his fair hair and continued, "And then his friend -- A Weasley, no less -- set his rat on Goyle!"  
  
Goyle grunted and rubbed his hand again. Pansy considered what Draco had just said, and looked disgusted.  
  
"A Weasley? I've heard Father talk about them. I can't believe anyone would want to be friends with such Muggle-lovers!" Draco snorted.  
  
"Apparently Harry Potter would. And that dirty great rat! You should set Celestina on him,'  
  
Pansy smiled fondly at the grey cat asleep on the carraige floor. Celestina -- named for her mother's favourite singer -- belonged to her entire family, but she had been permitted to take the cat to Hogwarts with her to keep her company. Celestina was a very old, very bad-tempered cat, but Pansy liked her -- Though she doubted Celestina would ever take orders from anyone, let along her master and mistresses daughter.  
  
She was about to say as much when a loud female voice echoed around the carriage, announcing that they would be arriving at Hogsmeade in a few minutes, and that the students were to leave their luggage on the train. After Crabbe and Goyle left to go back to their compartment, Pansy carefully put the still sleeping cat into it's carry cage.  
  
"You don't need Harry Potter, anyway, Draco," she said, trying to cheer her friend up.  
  
Instead of looking happier, Draco scowled and snarled at Pansy.  
  
"Of course I don't! What do you mean by that, do you think I don't know it already?"  
  
"Calm down, Draco, I'm just trying to be nice," Pansy said, coming to her own defense. She hated Draco's sudden moodswings. She felt like she had to walk on eggshells around him.  
  
"I can't believe you even convinced me to go and talk to him, anyway. A Malfoy never makes the first move, a Malfoy never makes the first move..."  
  
Draco, muttering to himself, slammed out of the compartment, probably to join Crabbe and Goyle again. Pansy stared blankly at the door. It seemed like Draco was always doing this -- Why was he so bad-tempered? Sighing, she drew her notebook out of her trunk again.  
  
'We're nearly at Hogwarts! I'm so nervous, I can barely write clearly. My hands are shaking. What if I've forgotten something? What if no one likes me? Draco will be my friend, of course, but what it no-one else will? Oh, I'm too nervous to write. Goodbye for now, notebook.' 


	3. Chapter Two: September 25th, 1991

Notebook: Chapter Two  
  
September Twenty-Fifth -- Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Slytherin Common Room  
  
'09/05/91  
  
Dearest notebook,  
  
Oh, Hogwarts is so wonderful! I can't believe how I begged Mother and Father to send me to Durmstrang now. I'm so glad they decided that I should go to Hogwarts instead. Eight generations of Parkinsons have gone to Hogwarts, you see, so they didn't want to break the tradition. I usually hate these stuffy traditions that my family seems to have so many of, but I'm pleased about this one, at least.  
  
There is so much to say about Hogwarts, I don't know where to start. Oh, yes I do -- I'm in Slytherin. I'm so relieved, I was worried that I was going to be put in Ravenclaw. But no, almost straight away the hat yelled out 'SLYTHERIN'. I suppose I am ambitious, after all. I was so surprised when I heard the hat's voice inside my head -- I was absolutely sure that I had finally gone mad with the stress of starting school.  
  
Draco was put in Slytherin, too, of course, as were Crabbe and Goyle. Harry Potter and his disgusting Weasley of a friend were put into Gryffindor -- I can't say I'm surprised. Goodness, I hate those Gryffindors. There's one who'd especially awful -- A Mudblood named Hermione Granger. She's such a bookworm, and a teacher's pet.. Oh! I really can't stand her.  
  
Neither can I stand Harry Potter. He's just as bad as I thought he'd be. Oh well -- Today, during out Flying Lesson, the teacher had to leave the class to attend to a another stupid Gryffindor. She told us we weren't, under any circumstances, to fly our broomsticks before she got back. But oh, Draco did! I was so worried. And that dreadful Potter boy followed him. Draco got down on the ground before the teacher saw, but Harry didn't! And now we're just sure he's going to be expelled.  
  
Anyway. The ground of Hogwarts are lovely -- They're so large. And they're well-kept, like the Parkinson Estate. With one difference, though -- Hogwarts doesn't have the same 'Touch that hedge and you'll be sorry' feeling to it... Everything is much more relaxed, thank goodness!  
  
The girls here are so different from me. They talk about things I don't quite understand, and use words that would make Mother faint if she heard them. They giggle when boys come near them, and they sometimes even paint their nails like Muggles do. And they --'  
  
"Pansy, hurry up!" Draco called from the entrance to Slytherin Common Room, "It's almost time for dinner."  
  
"Sorry, sorry," Pansy replied, stuffing her notebook into her shoulderbag and hurrying to catch up to her friend, "God forbid something should keep you from getting fed on time.", she joked.  
  
The pair walked quickly to the Great Hall, talking over the events of the day's Flying lesson.  
  
"I can't believe our luck, Potter getting caught flying a broomstick without permission -- He'll be expelled, I'm sure of it," Draco said smugly, a smile on his coming over his pale features.  
  
"I can't wait," Pansy said, grinning maliciously. She didn't really know this Potter boy very well at all, but she hated him for what he'd done to her family. She just loved the idea of him being expelled.  
  
The two children were soon joined by Crabbe and Goyle, who walked with them into the Great Hall.  
  
"I'm going to go and wish our wee little Potter farewell, care to join me?" Draco asked his three friends. Crabbe and Goyle grunted an affirmative, but Pansy shook her head slowly.  
  
"No, I think I'll go to our table. I need to finish something, anyway."  
  
They parted ways, and Pansy walked to the Slytherin table. She slid onto a empty bench and got herself a plate of mashed potatoes, dropping her bag onto the floor next to her feet. Chewing quietly and politely, as she had been taught to do by her mother, she pulled her notebook out and began to write again.  
  
'-- And they sometimes even flirt with the boys in our class. It's awful! Mother would be shocked at girls my age behaving like that.'  
  
Draco, Crabbe and Goyle arrived at the table and sat down around Pansy. Was it just her imagination, or didn't they look as excited as she thought they'd be over Potter getting kicked out of school?  
  
"What happened? Is he expelled?" she asked. Draco scowled and Crabbe shook his head.  
  
"No," he said. It was one of the first times Pansy had ever heard Vincent Crabbe talk.  
  
"What? What on earth do you mean?"  
  
Draco scowled, if it were possible, even harder than before. He snarled like Celestina when she was in a bad mood when he replied.  
  
"He means," he said annoyedly, "That Potter is not going to be expelled. I should've known that senile old Albus Dumbledore would never expell him -- After all, he's The Boy Who Bloody Well Had To Live!" Pansy didn't think she had ever seen Draco so annoyed -- And that was really saying something, as she had once accidently spilled an entire bottle of black ink on a pair of his brand-new robes.  
  
"Well... I'm sure Professor Dumbledore had a better reason than that for not expelling him," Pansy said doubtfully. What other reason would that old man have? Draco, who obviously thought the same, snorted sceptically.  
  
"Oh well, It doesn't really matter," He said, a slight smile appearing on his face, "He'll have another chance to get himself expelled tonight, won't he? I've challenged him to a Wizards Duel,"  
  
"What?!" Pansy almost shrieked, causing a nearby group of second-years to scowl at her. Crabbe and Goyle, however, ignored them both and started tucking in to the delicious Hogwart's food.  
  
"You can't, Draco -- You'll get expelled, too," She put her hand on his arm as if that could somehow convince him not to participate in this wizards duel.  
  
Draco momentarily looked uncomfortable, and shrugged her hand off, his face slightly flushed.He then regained his composure and sneered and rolled his eyes at his friend.  
  
"Of course I'm not going, Pansy. Don't be an idiot. I'm just doing this to trick him into going out-of-bounds at night. I'll warn Filch that someone is out of their bed, and then Potter'll get caught. It's the perfect plan!"  
  
Feeling slightly offended at being talked to so sharply, Pansy turned away from Draco. It was a good plan, but how dare Draco speak to her like that? She sniffed and pulled one of her textbooks out of her bag, opened it and pretended to read.  
  
"Oh, stop it. You're acting like that Gryffindor mudblood Hermione Granger," Draco said, sounding bored. The second-years, overhearing them again, laughed and raised their glasses to him, amused by the use of the word 'Mudblood'. Draco's smile widened, and he smoothed his hair with his palm, trying to look casual. Pansy tried not to laugh -- Draco was so very arrogant!  
  
"Oh, come on, Pansy," Draco said suddenly, "Don't ignore me. I was only joking, after all. Truce?" He held out his hand, still slightly greasy from his hair.  
  
Pansy sighed and closed 'One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi' and smiled reluctantly at the boy.  
  
"All right. Truce." 


	4. Chapter Three: October 24th, 1991

Notebook: Chapter Three  
  
October Twenty-Fourth, 1991 -- Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Slytherin First Year Dormitories (Girls)  
  
'Dear Pansy,  
  
How are you, daughter? You did not reply to my last letter, so I assume you are very busy --'  
  
Pansy sighed and rubbed her unfortunately-shaped nose. It was true that she was very busy with homework, her friends (Pansy and Draco Malfoy continued to be best friends, and she and Vincent Crabbe had become confidantes), and taking care of Celestina. But that wasn't the reason she hadn't taken to time to reply to her mother's letter; She was so enjoying her time away from home that she was reluctant to even think about home and her parents.She stroked Celestina, who was sitting on her lap, and continued reading.  
  
'-- All of us are well, and we hope you and the cat are, too. Father sends his love -- He's very busy, too, business with... Well, you know who I mean.But I can't say any more about it, so don't you ask miss Pansy Patricia Parkinson! You're far too curious for your own good.--'  
  
"Pansy!" Eleven years old, thin, and greasy-haired Draco Malfoy was calling to Pansy from the hallway. She smiled and folded her mother's letter up -- She would continue to read it later, and jumped off the bed. Celestina hopped to the floor indignantly, and stalked off to chase little animals running around the school's dungeons.  
  
Draco was standing in the corridor with his hands in his pockets. He smiled when Pansy came out of her dormitory.  
  
"Hey," he said.  
  
"Hi. Is it time for breakfast yet?" Pansy said, having lost her watch a few weeks previous. Her friend nodded.  
  
"What've you got there?"  
  
"Oh," Pansy looked at the letter in her hand and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "It's a letter from Mother,"  
  
"Ah, wonderful," Malfoy said sarcastically, as they slowly began to make their way to breakfast. He knew what Pansy thought of her parents.  
  
"I'm thrilled," Pansy replied in a deadpan voice, then smiled. She had fun with Draco sometimes -- When he wasn't being a moody brat.  
  
Eleven year old, stocky Vincent Crabbe joined the two, along with his counterpart, the slightly thicker skulled Gregory Goyle. The four of them walked up the stairs to the Entrance Hall.  
  
...  
  
The four Slytherins sat down and tucked in heartily to another excellent Hogwart's breakfast. Draco was busy stuffing sausage into his hungry mouth when Pansy slapped him lightly on the arm.  
  
"Look what Potter has," Draco reluctantly followed her gaze -- he didn't even seem to want to think about Potter after the disappointment of his Duel plan failing -- and choked on his mouthful. Harry had recieved a large, suspiciously broomstick-shaped package  
  
"What's he doing with a broomstick?!" he said, affronted. "I suppose he thinks that just because he's that fool Dumbledore's little golden boy, he can have a broomstick, too... I'm going over there."  
  
"Oh, Draco, no! Every time you talk to Harry you make a fool out of yourself!" Pansy pleaded, hoping to save her friend from further embarrassment. This remark, however, only made Draco more determined.  
  
"I most certainly do not make a fool of myself, thank you Pansy," he said, haughtily, and stalked off, once again, to the Gryffindor table.  
  
...  
  
'31/10/91  
  
Dear notebook,  
  
Draco is most displeased -- Harry Potter had gotten himself a broomstick, and a spot as Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team! Blaise Zabini told us the news about the Quidditch. It's just awful, Draco's so very jealous. He's been in a bad mood for days. Anyway -- I must go, the Hallowe'en feast is about to start.'  
  
...  
  
Pansy and her friends were enjoying the feast when the Defense Against The Dark Arts Professor, Professor Quirrell came racing into the Great Hall, screaming. Pansy dropped her fork and Goyle fell off his bench.  
  
The Professor said a few words that Pansy couldn't quite catch, and passed out. There was a rippled of whispers throughout the room.  
  
"What did he say?" Pansy, asked, slightly panicky -- She had not liked the look on the Professors' face.  
  
"There's a troll, in the dungeons!" The other Slytherins whispered, and Pansy gasped. A troll? In Hogwarts?  
  
Dumbledore ordered the Prefects to take their peers back to their Common Rooms, as they did. The older Slytherins were laughing "It's okay, we'll just throw him a few first years!" one particularly rowdy one said. The Prefects looked irritated and told him to shut up. Pansy winced. 'Shut up' was such an awful term, and she'd never heard it before coming to school.  
  
Pansy and the other girls were led into their dormitory.  
  
"I hope everything's okay," Pansy said, nervously.  
  
"Oh, be quiet, Pansy. Don't be such a wimp." Millicent Bulstrode -- Who did not care much for Miss Parkinson -- said callously.  
  
"Don't talk to me like that, Millicent Bulstrode!" Pansy said, offended. How dare a Bulstrode talk to a Parkinson like that?  
  
"I'll talk to you how I want.. slut." Millicent said the last word in a stage whisper, with a satisfied smile. The other girls in the room gasped and giggled at the use of such a bad word. Pansy just stared at Millicent, confused.  
  
"Er -- Excuse me?"  
  
"You heard me. I've seen all those boys you hang about with." Pansy -- who was too naive to know what the word meant -- was beginning to get an idea of its definition. And she wasn't pleased.  
  
"They're just my friends!"  
  
"Yeah, whatever you say, Pansy," Millicent smiled knowingly and pulled the curtains around her bed. Sighing, Pansy did the same. Celestine cuddled up next to her hip and began purring softly, but even with that comfort there, it was some time until Pansy fell asleep. 


	5. Chapter Four: November 13th, 1991

Notebook: Chapter Four  
  
November 13th, 1991 -- Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, The Grounds, By The Lake  
  
'13/11/91  
  
Dear notebook,  
  
Oh, It was so scary having a troll in the school dungeons. And you will just never guess who attacked -- and defeated -- it. Harry Potter, of course!  
  
And of course Draco is absolutely disgusted and angry and jealous, which is bad news for me, Crabbe and Goyle. We have to put up with almost constant temper tantrums. The things we do for Draco sometimes, honestly.  
  
We found out this interesting news from Blaise Zabini, the House gossip. He's worse than us girls, really. He always has some sort of gossip to tell us about.  
  
As a matter of fact, I'm waiting for him now -- He wanted me to meet him by the Lake today so he could tell me something. I can't think what it could be, though.  
  
Maybe he has some piece of gossip to tell me. Maybe Millicent Bulstrode was caught kissing Marcus Flint behind the Greenhouses, and has been expelled... Oh, I wish!  
  
I hope it's something like that, that nosy witch (so to speak), prying into my business and calling me names that would better suit herself! Oh, Blaise is here--'  
  
"Um, hi Pansy," Blaise said, obviously very nervous. Pansy momentarily wonder why, and then dismissed it so that she could greet the boy.  
  
"Hello, Blaise," She said, smiling, "What did you want to tell me?" Please, please let it be Millicent's expulsion, she thought maliciously.  
  
"Er... I just... Would you?... Um, Pansy --"  
  
"Yes?" Goodness, she thought, this piece of news couldn't be that exciting that he could barely speak, could it?  
  
"I, um... I like you." He stared at her expectantly.  
  
Pansy was sort of let down. Was that all? One of her friends -- Well, acquaintances, at least -- Brought her here to announce something she already knew?  
  
"I like you, too." She said, irritated that she had wasted her time for this.  
  
"No, I mean... I "Like" you, Pansy. I want you to be my girlfriend. Will you?"  
  
The penny dropped, and Pansy was shocked. He "Liked" her? Why would anyone do that? Least of all Blaise, who barely knew her!  
  
"Oh. Um--"  
  
"Well, will you? Please Pansy?"  
  
Pansy opened her mouth, but no words came out; She was speechless. Memories of her fight with Millicent came rushing into her head -- If she said yes, would she really be a slut, then? She had looked the word up in the dictionary in the library --  
  
a. A sexually promiscuous woman  
  
b. A woman prostitute  
  
She had then looked up 'promiscuous' and 'prostitute', and by then she'd got the idea. Millicent had referred to her as one of those woman who walked along the streets at night, one of those women mother looked down on, thought were disgusting, hated.  
  
"Um, I'll have to think about it." she said.  
  
...  
  
'Dear notebook,  
  
I don't know what to do! I don't want to hurt Blaise's feelings, but--'  
  
"You're not going out with him!" Draco said, angrily.  
  
"And why not?" Asked Pansy, annoyed. Why was Draco so controlling?  
  
"You... You just can't!"  
  
"I'll do what I want, thank you, Draco Malfoy! And what if I do want to go out with him?"  
  
"Fine! It's not like I care, anyway," Draco walked to the other end of the Common Room and slumped down in a chair in front of the fireplace.  
  
Pansy threw her hands in the air in exasperation and walked back outside.  
  
...  
  
'15/11/91  
  
Dear notebook,  
  
I said yes to Blaise, if only to annoy Draco. I know it's mean to use him to make Draco pissed off (I can't believe I'm suing such language -- what is school doing to me?), but Slytherins are apparently thought of as manipulative creatures, so maybe it's in my nature.--'  
  
"Hi, Pansy!" Blaise called across the Great Hall. Pansy groaned to herself and pasted a smile on her face, like mother always did.  
  
"Hello, Blaise," she said, hoping that she sounded more enthusiastic than she felt. Blaise grinned and sat down next to her at the table.  
  
"How are you?"  
  
"I'm -- What are you doing?" she gasped, as Blaise put his hand over hers.  
  
"Holding your hand, Pansy. That's what boyfriend and girlfriend do,"  
  
"I didn't know I'd have to do anything like that!" The naive Pansy said, affronted. She could hear Draco snickering at the other end of the table, and suddenly changed her mind.  
  
"Okay, Blaise you can hold my hand," she said, staring stubbornly in Draco's direction.  
  
Blaise's hand was soft and cool, but she didn't really think she liked holding hands much at all. 


End file.
